Survivors
by Scarabbug
Summary: I might be right about the base. But I know you won’t let me go alone. And I know that if we go out, you might be shot dead by one of the evils, and I couldn’t bear that. SemiAU, rated for violence.


**This fic is a bit rough as a result of being completed at three a.m., but I decided to post it anyway. I'm going to modify bits of it at some point. For now, I'm just going to use it to write a quick and not-too-great fic. It's un-betaed (she's back at Uni. Is busy, and I didn't want to bother her until she gets back in her rhythm). So feel free to pick it to pieces.**

**AU, hence the blood, which is also the reason for the T-rating. I'm aware that my "reality theory" and RW-GV links are a bit tenuous… okay then, very tenuous. They should probably make AU Dystopia a Fanfic category. The real gratitude for this story goes to a writer in the Sonic section, who first gave me the idea. When I find him/her again, I'll be sure to let you know.**

Disclaimer: All ALF's in the vicinity can rest assured; these guys don't actually belong to me and probably never will. If they did I wouldn't have taken away the official website without so much as a warning ¬¬. Mutter mumble, complain…

* * *

Survivors. 

Scarab D.

'There might be survivors. There might be.'

'I expect so. Somewhere.'

For the moment, it's best to be hopeful. No use worrying ourselves senseless over it. You're pacing back and forth in the semi-darkness. You keep looking at me. Your hands are clenched tightly into fists.

'Enough of the pacing already. You'll wear a hole in the floor.' I want you to save your energy, but you just want to use it. You're feeling useless. Closed in. You've always been a fighter, but now you're expected to stand still and watch it all falling to pieces around us.

'Someone's got to be alive up there…' you're looking up at the thin planks of wood that make up the ceiling. Staring hard at the shafts of light let in by the moon.

A crushing, violent rattle overhead makes you jump. I don't know what it is. Sounds like walls crumbling, or metal wheels crunching on dirt. Dust and splinters fall from the trembling boards over our heads.

You reach for a weapon but your hand closes around thin air and you pull your arms back in and wrap them around your chest, realising you've nothing to fire. You stand there for a while. Listening to the crashing and the rattling. Your gaze fixed determinedly on the timbers, creaking overhead.

If you're afraid you won't let me see it.

* * *

'How long has it been?' I can't really answer that question. I lost track of the hours a while ago. There's a clock in the room, but it's already died out. I want to hold off as long as I can before I start using the few emergency batteries we have. Besides, we couldn't guess what time it is.

'They're still patrolling. Why would they be patrolling if there's nobody to find? If there's noone left alive?'

I feel myself sighing. 'If there are, they won't allow it. They'll hunt them down.'

You shake your head. 'No.'

'They've already cut the power above ground—'

'No! Don't think like that. We mustn't think like that.' You're staring at me hard through those dull blue eyes, as if you can see me hiding something.

'No you're right, we can't think like that.'

* * *

I've seen miracles happen.

It sounds ridiculous, but it's true. The humans –they pretty much performed a miracle for us before we came back to this world. Almost, anyway. They pulled out the things we hated about ourselves, boosted our power. Created flesh out of iron and steel and gave me back something I thought I'd lost forever.

So maybe that's what I'm hoping for now. Another miracle.

You used to tell me you didn't believe in them, but you're hoping for one too. You sigh and lean against me to try and keep warm. My arm goes around your shoulder. It feels like it's getting colder down here every day. I try to pretend there's nothing more to it than that.

* * *

'What was that?'

It's not machines you hear this time, or something from your nightmares. It's… scratching, clawing. I look up, watching the moonlight flickering in the gaps between the wood. Something's ripping at the planks.

Harpix. I don't know much about them. All I know is that they're some freakish mutation of a species, created in the void between the worlds. That, and that most of them work for him. As means to their own end, perhaps, but they work for him, nonetheless.

After a while the scratching stops. The shadows move away. Something else is flickering and glimmering as it drifts slowly down from the dusty planks.

It's a Harpix feather. Just a small one. You reach out to touch it and then pull away, your finger sliced and bleeding. The feather is sharp to the touch. It's the same finger you cut yesterday trying to open one of the food cans with your bear hands. You clench your new wound tightly in your fist. I remember the first time you every saw that –blood leaking out instead of binary data– and how shocked you were. In an ironic twist of fate, it seemed, that at least in that sense, we'd gotten what we wanted all along

* * *

'Sounds like gunshot.'

'That's new,' you mutter. We've heard a lot over the last few days but nothing that sounds like this.

There's still people up there to shoot at, at least.

I take that as a good sign.

Unless they're just taking pots at Harpix or Buzzbeasts. You try to settle down, but staying still has never been one of your virtues.

'Do you ever think things can go back… to the way they used to be?' you say at last into the quiet that follows the gunshot. Looking right at me as you do so.

I think about how things used to be. Not too far back. Just far enough, till after we all had our programming "modified" (or in some cases, had them ripped up and started again, practically from the beginning –you wanted that, complete reorganization of your thoughts and feelings, but I wouldn't let you have it). When we all came back to this world. When we thought we still had a chance to make a difference.

By the time we got back here, though, he done all he planned to do. Chaos in the cities and mayhem in the streets. There was too much damage for us to know where to start making things right again. Things got more real for us every day that went past, after we came back here, just like they said it would. But things got worse because of it. Not better.

I don't want to lie to you. But the truth would be too cruel.

'Yeah, I think they can.'

* * *

I remember the look on your face the day we found out what he almost did. The kid.

I couldn't believe now simple it was. He could've pressed a button and we'd all have been gone, just like that. You couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe he'd ever consider doing something like that. Not the kid. The boy you secretly thought was "kind of sweet in an annoying, scrawny way". You stormed out of the Thunder Tower. Later on, you told me all about it. I think you were surprised that I wasn't more horrified. But then, maybe I'd sort of figured it out by then.

The ceiling rattles above us. I wish he was up there now. I wish he could just press a damn button and have it done with already. I wish things could be that simple, the way it used to be.

No I don't.

And you don't either. I can see it in your eyes. You want to live so badly. You want to exist. _I _want you to exist. But all that energy you used to have… I wonder where it's going.

* * *

'You know, it's likely that one of the bases along the border still has men.' I say. 'Maybe they're even fighting back.'

'And you want to go find out, right?' You wince a little. I don't blame you. The last time I was up there I saw bloodshed. I don't know what you saw. I found you down here, by some total stroke of luck.

'No, of course I'm not going to go. Come on, you think I'd leave you here?' You smile at me. It's the first time you have since this whole mess started. There's a trace of the old you in the look on your face. A trace of that old, almost forgotten energy.

'What makes you think I'd let you go alone?'

My head is shaking without me even realising it.

I might be right about the base. But I know you won't let me go alone. And I know that if we go out, you might be shot dead by one of the evils, and I couldn't bear that. You're the last thing I have left. You're all there is to fight for. Zoar be damned if I'm going to let them kill you.

'No. Forget it. We'd have to stay in this area anyway. This is the only place within five miles with decent radio signals.'

A part of you –the part that realises the radio has nothing to do with it– looks angry. I'm making you feel like a child. Someone who needs looking after. Another part of you is probably utterly relieved. I don't bother trying to differentiate.

* * *

It's true; the radio has nothing to do with it. It's been two weeks, and Lightning Knights don't hide for long.

We can't stay here much longer anyway. Flesh and blood or not, electricity keeps me alive. It always has done. And now there's no more of it. Even if that wasn't a problem, I don't think either of us could bear this. I think about the code of the Lightning Knight. Do Right and Fear Not.

I try to remember the last time those words actually had any meaning. I have this vague recollection of a boy, a human, with a ball of some kind gripped in his hands, looking at me and biting his lip.

It doesn't matter. You sit there staring at me, dull eyes still glimmering with something the last few weeks would have knocked out of anyone else. There's still some fight left in you. Still something that believes.

We make a decision to wait until nightfall.

Waiting was a good idea.

The city is deserted. It's so dark that we can't really see _all_ the damage. Broken buildings look like rocky outcrops in the shadows. Everything is falling apart and ripped to the ground. What I figure used to be the healer's store is wreck and rubble. What used to be a children's park is nothing but ash and dust. What used to be the academy is… gone. Just gone. It was my home for six years, and now I can't even see where it used to stand on the landscape.

It's a sharp night. It never used to get cold here back in the old days. In the shadows, the broken up carnage all around us feels almost natural. As if it's always been that way. But it hasn't. Things around here are different to how they used to be. So very different.

I clench my fists a little tighter. First there was nothing of this world, just… programmed people and mindless zombies. Then things changed, and there was life here at last. Now I guess it's gone again.

Some brave new world…

'Okay then, we're out. Now where exactly do we go?'

I have to think about that one for a moment, and you stand there looking at me, and waiting for answers. So much quieter than I ever remember you being in all our time together. You cast uneasy glances at the landscape.

'We can keep to the alleys and head out towards the far end of the city,' I answer, wishing I could sound surer of myself. 'Then we can head for swamps, and go from there.'

'Okay. S'long as you know what you're doing.'

* * *

Like I said, it's different now to how it used to be. But in other ways too. Our blood is different, and so is dying. Things don't just… vanish when you destroy them anymore. They stay where they are and slowly fall to pieces.

At least it's late and the moon is behind the clouds, so we can't see a lot of the mess, littering the landscape.

A Harpix scours the skies overhead. I don't really want to know where he found those monstrous creatures. They're not pretty, but they must be powerful allies, and they clearly make for good searchers.

'Why would they have searchers out, if there were no survivors to search for?'

You've asked me that same question before, I know. I still don't quite trust myself to give you an answer. I look at you and force a smile that you probably can't see in the darkness. Then I reach out, and clutch your hand in mine.

You squeeze back for a second. But then you let go. You don't want to be held now. That glimmer in your eyes is back, and I can tell. I can tell a part of you is ready to fight.

No matter how suicidal it might be.

* * *

'We can get past it, right?'

The Harpix is too close. We're pressed against the wreckage of a factory wall and you have your eyes half closed, as if you know their glimmer might just give us away.

Something tells me it's too late for that.

'It… it can't see us, can it?'

'Shh!'

Too long, it's been standing there above us, watching this very space for too long. I have no idea how Harpix see. Whether they're tuned to see in the dark or in daylight or whether those thick, white eyes can even SEE at all. But whichever way, it knows we're here, or at least, suspects.

'We can't just stand here,' your voice comes out in a whisper.

'We can't yet… just wait.'

'We can't just STAND here. It's all or nothing. Get to the swamp land tonight, that was the plan! We can make it.'

For a moment there, you actually sound like you believe that. A few weeks ago, days even, we would've stood our ground, but there's not enough power left in either of us for that anymore. But running. There's enough power left for that, at least. Maybe not fast enough though.

I look at you. For just a second I open my mouth and almost tell you. I almost say the words that I want so badly to say. But there's not enough time. I swallow. Nod. Your hand touches mine.

We run.

* * *

You really did sound like you believed it. Maybe when I looked at you, I did too. For a moment.

The air is filled with a thousand brilliant reflections as the Harpix's wings flash at the sky. I run harder than I ever had before and you're alongside me, just ahead, in fact, closest to the wall, staggering on over rubble and crunching broken glass.

It's seen us.

We run faster. I can hear the breath catching in your lungs. I reach back and grab your wrist, dragging you forwards. I try to make you speed up.

The Harpix cries. I hear the scratching shrieking so loud that it could piece your eardrums. The sound of dagger sharp feather's ripping through the air and making impact with flesh.

The next thing I know, we're on the ground and I'm still clutching your hand. My side is burning from the hip to the shoulder. A searing heat screams across my back. The world rocks.

I feel you hit the ground besides me and force my eyes to open. It hurts to move.

'Sparx…?'

Your eyes are wide open but they're not looking at me. They're staring far past me.

I've seen you die before. That was different. That was when you had time to look at me and smile and say five words that used to mean so much. My hands clutch at your throat, there's no pulse, except from the liquid heat leaking over my fingers. My tears are warmer.

* * *

The Harpix is still there, and I know it's not finished with me.

I stand. I can feel the steely shards, jarring against my own ribs. Something cold has erupted in my stomach and it's numbing the pain in my side.

It raises its wings to finish its task but I make impact before it can lash out at me again. Bubbles of whatever electricity I have left boil up inside of me. The air is filled with light and a few shards of energy, prickling like knives as they burst out of my skin in ways I don't think they're supposed to.

The Harpix is screaming. My fists are smashing into its steely skin and brittle, but powerful, bones. Ripping it apart. I strike it again and again, breaking its cries with my punches. It's wings slash the air like Swords of Jacob.

It's only when the crackling light is fading from it's crystal wings and blue blood is seeping between it's feathers that I stop. It doesn't move again. I look at my hands, smeared with blood and dirt. Funnily, they don't hurt. It's my side that's really bad. I look to see the shards of broken, metallic wing that I already knew were digging right into me.

The moon crawls out from behind the clouds and highlights everything. Including you. The dark red seeping through your dirt-covered uniform. The moonlight catches the metal feather's that are sharp as knives and are lancing out of your chest, like some kind of… of jagged fire made of crystal.

My energy does a sharp plummet into what I guess is single figures. I can't see well enough to tell anymore. I stagger and fall besides you. Reaching out to touch your hand.

I'm trembling. There's something I wanted to tell you, but my memory files feel broken and shattered…

I can't remember what it was.

* * *

**Well… there you go. I'll leave the male identity up to you (it's probably OOC no matter who you go with). Was trying to make it ambiguous. But then he whole _thing_ is pretty ambiguous, sooo… yeah. **

**Yes, I know it's not my best in the slightest. But I enjoyed writing it.** **So… opinions? **


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